Mourning Rituals
by Cats070911
Summary: Tommy helps Barbara to see that in order to have a future, she must first confront her past. But will she ever believe that future is with him? Please do not expect a chapter per day.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. A little interlude between my studies, work and other writing projects.

* * *

"I don't think so." Sergeant Havers stood with her hands on her hips and glared defiantly at her boss.

Sometimes DI Tommy Lynley despaired of his partner's stubbornness and at ten o'clock at night he would rather be at home sipping an excellent malt and listening to Wagner than in the office arguing with Barbara. "It's logical. He has to have hidden the money somewhere inside the house after he murdered her! The money's gone, and the police found him inside. He had no time to take it anywhere."

"What if the robbery was earlier?"

"Then why murder the old woman?"

"Some sort of cover up?"

"That makes no sense Barbara."

"Who said murderers have to be logical? It's not as if they go to Murderer's School to be trained in the Lynley Rules of Good Killing."

Tommy's frustration suddenly changed. He began to smirk then a broad smile broke across his face before he began to laugh. "Oh, Barbara!"

"It's not funny."

He could tell she was trying not to laugh with him. "Yes, it is."

"Is not."

Tommy stopped and raised his eyebrows. "Are we about to have an 'is, is not' argument?"

"No!"

"Yes, we were."

"No, we weren't!"

They stared at each other. He was trying hard not to laugh first. Barbara's phone chirped shrilly, breaking the moment.

"Havers!" she snapped. Tommy watched as the colour drained from her face. "Yes, I see. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Barbara?"

"It's my mother. She's had a turn. They've rushed her to St Francis' Hospital. They... they don't think she'll make through the night."

"Oh Barbara, I'm sorry." He put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her gently. It surprised him when she nestled her face into his chest. It felt rather wonderful, and his reaction mortified Lynley. "I'll drive you straight over."

Barbara sat silently beside him until they reached the hospital. At the late hour parking close to the entrance was easy. "Thanks, Sir. I may not be in tomorrow."

"I'll come in with you." Tommy saw her hackles start to rise. "For moral support. Or I could just wait here in case you need me."

Barbara looked him up and down. "Thanks. I'd like that if you don't mind but come in with me. At least wait inside."

She looked vulnerable and afraid. Lynley wanted to comfort her, but he did not know how to do it in a way she would understand. "Whatever you need Barbara."

They were led straight up to the ward. "I have to warn you, Ms Havers - your mother is quite belligerent."

"Mum? No, she's not even lucid most of the time."

"She is tonight."

Barbara frowned and took a deep breath. Tommy searched for comforting words. "You'll be okay. Make your peace if you can." Barbara looked up at him, and he thought he had overstepped the line.

"Would you come in with me?"

"Of course."

In the brightly lit room, a line of blinking monitors measured Mrs Havers vitals. Beside him, Barbara gasped.

"Barbara? Is that you?"

"Yes, Mum." Tommy watched as Barbara moved forward and sat beside the bed. She took her mother's frail hand. Tears threatened to roll down her cheeks. He moved behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. Her muscles were tense but relaxed slightly when he gave them a gentle squeeze.

Her mother looked up. "You're the nice man that was with Barbara years ago."

"He's my partner, Mum."

"Oh, I knew he was the right man for you. He can match your spirit. Are you married? Do you have children?"

Barbara's face darkened. She looked up at Tommy and mouthed 'sorry'. "No Mum, he's my partner at work, not my boyfriend."

"Why not?"

"Mum, please! What happened tonight?"

"You love him, I can tell and look at his face, he feels the same way. Make an old lady happy."

"Mum! Stop it now!" Barbara turned to Tommy. "Sorry Sir, she gets very confused. Maybe you should wait outside."

Tommy nodded. "I'll give you some time with Barbara, Mrs Havers. I'll come back soon." He turned to his partner. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks," she replied. He noticed she was unable to look at him. He gave her shoulder another squeeze then left the women to talk.

When he returned, they were talking seriously. Barbara seemed upset, but he sensed he should leave them alone. "Won't interrupt. Here's your coffee, Barbara. I have to make some calls, but I'll just be outside if you need me."

Tommy sat on a plastic chair in the small, linoleum-lined waiting area. After checking his email, he sat back and closed his eyes, feeling vaguely uneasy about tonight. He had a feeling Mrs Havers was going to die, and he knew Barbara would go through a rollercoaster of emotions. She would hold it in, be contained and behave far more respectably than he had when Helen had died. He wanted to be there for her, to comfort her and ease her pain but he would not presume to intrude. Everything in his upbringing told him to be supportive but to let Barbara take the lead. Everything in his heart told him he would have to push her to her breaking point to help her.

He stopped spinning his phone between his index fingers and push a short-dial. "Mother, it's Tommy. I hope it's not too late."

"Tommy? What's happened?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. I just wanted to say hello."

"At midnight? Hello couldn't have waited until eight o'clock?"

"I'm sorry Mother. I shouldn't have called. Goodnight."

"Wait! Tommy something's wrong. What is it?"

"I'm at the hospital with Barbara..."

"Something's happened to Barbara? Are you alright son?"

"Yes, I'm fine. It's not Barbara. It's her mother. It doesn't look too hopeful I'm afraid. But it made me think."

"Oh Tommy, that's so sweet." He frowned then realised his mother thought he had been thinking about losing her. In part she was right, but not entirely.

"When Helen died, why didn't you try to stop me self-destructing?"

"Everyone grieves differently. You knew I was here if you wanted to come home or talk to me. But it's not the done thing to presume to know what's best for someone."

"I want to help Barbara. I don't want her to let guilt devour her. It's not healthy. I know that too well."

"Tommy, you know her best. You'll know what to do when the time comes."

"Will I?"

"You two have a connection. Just look inside your heart."

"Thank you, Mother. I should let you get back to bed."

"Goodnight Tommy."

He stood and stretched. Barbara instinctively knew what to say to him. He would have to trust himself that he would know when the time came. He wandered over and peeked through the small window in the door. Mrs Havers was holding forth in a very animated way and although he could not see her face, he knew by the set of her shoulders that Barbara was getting angry. He pushed the door open and searched for his most compelling smile. "I just thought I drop in and see if there's anything you need."

"No, we're fine." Barbara looked tired. It went beyond the tiredness of a late night. She looked almost... defeated. Never before had he wanted to hold and protect someone as much.

"I'll be outside if you need me."

Just as he was about to close the door he heard her mother hiss at Barbara, "perfect manners. Too good for the likes of us. Why would a lord want to play at being a copper? You're right to keep your distance, love. He'll break your heart. You could never be enough for him."

Tommy wanted to argue with her but he saw the agony on Barbara's face. Neither woman thought he had heard and it was probably better not to make a scene. He would talk to Barbara later and reassure her.

 _Reassure her of what exactly?_ Why he was a policeman was easy and he had persuasive arguments why he was not too good for Barbara, or more rightly why she was a better person than him in so many ways. What he could not explain, even to himself, was why she was all he needed.

He raked his fingers through his hair. Mrs Havers' earlier words ricocheted around his head - 'you love him, and look at his face, he feels the same way'. _Had she seen something between them that they hadn't seen?_ He enjoyed being with Barbara. She complemented him in so many ways yet always pushed him to extend his comfort zone. Their friendship was unconventional and they disagreed about so many things and yet underneath all the superficial nonsense they understood each other more than anyone else ever would. _Is it love?_

In away it most certainly was, but until tonight when she rested her face against him, it had never had a physical element. Barbara had just been Barbara. He had hugged her occasionally but he had never thought about it being anything more than affectionate. As he sat and thought about the last decade together, he knew he was lying to himself, even now. He had tried to kiss her once, after their first few cases, when he had started to grow fond of her. Fortunately she had rejected him because then it would have been a mistake. It would have been just another notch on his Met belt.

The more he thought about it, the clearer it was to him that he had been living with his head stuck somewhere decidedly unpleasant. When he had turned up at her flat unexpectedly that night two years ago, he had sat on her chair and watched her face. It was that moment, as she sat in her dowdy dressing gown and listened to his doubts, that he had known she was his soulmate. Afterwards he had tried to dismiss his desire by arguing he just wanted companionship but he knew he would not have said hesitated if she had invited him to her room. _How could I pretend it was innocent?_

Now as her mother lay dying and she needed him as a friend, he could not trust himself. He wanted to tell her how he felt. _But how to you say, 'sorry your mother died but hey, guess what. I just worked out I've been in love with you for years'?_ Tommy shook his head. He could not, and would not, say anything. Not yet, not until Barbara was ready to hear it.


	2. Chapter 2

He took another look through the door. Both women were asleep. Barbara had her head on the bed. She looked content, and Tommy thought about waking up next to her every day. He rather liked that idea. He returned to his chair and closed his eyes. Images of soft beds with crisp, white linen and a redheaded lover filled his head. He sighed contentedly as sleep won him over.

He woke to the sounds of alarms. His neck ached, and as he stretched it, he saw the clock. It was nearly morning. Doctors and nurses came running and disappeared into Mrs Havers' room. As he moved to the door, a nurse escorted Barbara into the corridor. She looked dazed. "Barbara! Are you okay?"

"Mum... she... died. She just stopped breathing."

Tommy had no words of comfort so he took her in his arms and held her tightly. "I'm sorry Barbara, truly." He felt her nodding against his chest, but she did not respond. She was standing awkwardly. He wondered if she was in shock or if her mother's words had affected her. "It'll be okay. I'm here for you."

She pulled away from him. "I'll have to make the arrangements, then notify a few people. I might need today off." Her voice sounded pragmatic and detached.

"It's compassionate leave, Barbara. You can have a week at least to sort everything. I'll take today off and drive you."

"No. I can manage. I'll go home and shower then go to the funeral home."

Tommy decided not to debate it now. He walked with her slowly back to his car. "Seatbelt," he reminded her gently when she just sat staring ahead.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I must be more distracted than I thought."

"That's understandable."

The short drive seemed eternal. Lynley knew her well enough to know she was trying not to show her emotions in front of him. That hurt. Tommy wanted her to feel able to share anything, everything with him. He could not find a place to park near her flat so pulled in on the next street.

"Thanks, Sir. I appreciate what you did last night. I'll ring you tonight. I should be back to work tomorrow."

"I'll walk you to your flat."

Barbara frowned. "It's only around the corner."

Tommy was already out of the car. He was determined he was going to accompany her. "I need to know you're safely inside Barbara."

She shrugged but let him walk beside her. When they reached the flat, she opened the door and stepped inside. From the hard glare of her eyes, Tommy expected her to slam it in his face. Instead, her eyes softened. "It's probably too late, or too early, for a drink but do you want a cup of tea or coffee?"

"Coffee," he said as he stepped into her flat. Nothing ever changed. There were piles of papers on the table and clothes hung up to dry on almost every door handle. He followed her lead and tossed his coat on a vacant chair. Living like this would drive him slowly insane. When she moved in with him, he would insist on keeping his housekeeper. _Moving in with me? Settle Tommy. She's barely talking to you!_

Barbara busied herself in the kitchen. He could tell she was avoiding talking to him. Her actions seemed confident enough until she went to add the milk. It slopped over the bench as her hands quivered. Tommy took the bottle from her hand and put it on the counter then pulled her into a bear hug. She was trembling and as he held her it became more violent until she let out a muffled, anguished cry against his chest and went still. He stroked her head tenderly and pulled her closer. Her arms had been hanging loosely at her sides, but they snaked around his waist sending a pleasant shiver through him.

It was nearly ten minutes before Barbara started to pull away. She was still in his arms as she looked up at him. "Sorry. I... I... thanks."

Tommy pushed some hair from her face. Every ounce of his willpower was needed to stop him kissing her tear-stained face. "Don't be sorry. Now go and sit down and I'll finish the coffees."

After re-boiling the kettle and mopping up the spills, he joined her on her sofa. "Here, just the way you like it."

"You mean too hot and sugary."

"You can mock my barista skills Sergeant, but with only instant coffee and skimmed milk I think I have performed a miracle."

Barbara took a sip and nodded. "Not bad actually."

They drank in silence until Tommy looked at his watch. "Almost six-thirty."

"Sorry. You go. You need some sleep. I'll be fine. Thank you again."

"I slept at the hospital. I have no intention of leaving you alone today unless you want me to."

"Yes. No. I don't know. I'm... confused."

"That's natural Barbara, but I think you need someone with you today. What if I go home and shower then come back about eight? I can be your chauffeur, and you can decide later if you want company or not."

"Yeah, thanks. If we get it done this morning, I'd like to sleep. I feel... drained."

"That's perfectly understandable. I'll see you about eight but if you need me just call."

"Thanks," she said as she let him out. "See you soon."

When Tommy returned just before eight, he could tell from her red eyes that she had been crying. It was probably a good thing, but he wished she had shared it with him so that she knew he understood and cared. "Hi," he said, trying to sound neutral.

"Come in. I'll just get my coat."

"How are you feeling?"

"Honestly?"

Tommy put his arm around her shoulder. "Yes, you can't deceive me."

"I think I'm feeling all the things everyone does. Guilt. Relief. Sadness. But I don't want to stop and think yet. I need to get through today," she said solemnly. "And Sir..."

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," he said pulling her into a quick hug. "Come on then, let's get the hard bits done."

Barbara gave him the address and then asked who else she had to tell. She pulled out her phone and added his suggestions to her list. "Are you sure you don't mind driving me around?"

"Of course not."

"It might take a few hours."

"I'm here for as long as you need me."

* * *

The funeral director was initially far too obsequious for Tommy's liking until it became clear that Barbara was not going to spend a fortune on the funeral. "You have to honour your mother's life," the odious man said smugly. That line might work on others, but it was not going to work with Barbara.

"We don't need a funeral service. Mum's had dementia for fifteen years, and most of her old friends are dead. So a cardboard coffin will do," Barbara said firmly.

"The service is generally for the family. You don't want to look back in years to come and feel guilty. If cost is an issue we have a loan scheme with very reasonable rates," he argued.

"Money is not an issue, Mr Groves," Tommy intervened, "but if Ms Havers does not want a service then we should move on. But perhaps we could have a few minutes?"

"Of course," the man replied, his gracious answer not disguising his contempt.

"Barbara, are you sure?"

"It's not about the money!"

"I don't remember saying it was," he said firmly, "I just want you to have a few minutes to be sure."

Barbara nodded. "Sorry. Yeah, I am. We have no family, so it would only be me and maybe our old neighbour who used to look after her."

"And me."

"Yeah. Winston and a few from work might come too, just to do the right thing. But I couldn't bear it. No service. And why pay for an expensive coffin just to be incinerated?"

"I agree."

"You do? I thought you'd disapprove."

"Not at all. I have money, but I don't waste it."

For the first time since last night, she gave him a genuine smile. "Can you get him? I don't want to talk to him any more than I have to."

It took another thirty minutes to finalise the details and provide details for the death certificate. Their next stop was the bank, then the solicitor, and finally the nursing home. Barbara packed her mother's few possessions quickly then thanked the staff and hurried from the building. "They say dementia's hereditary. If I go like that, promise me you'll poison me rather than let me end up in a place like that."

Tommy put the box in his boot the opened the car door for her. "I can't promise to poison you, but you'll be looked after and never end up somewhere like that."

"You're serious!" she said as he settled into his seat.

Lynley looked across at her and frowned. "Yes. You weren't?"

"Well, it was sort of rhetorical. I don't plan on going senile in the immediate future. It'll be after we've both moved on I hope. Besides, you might go first. You are older."

"By two years. It makes no difference, I've made very clear provisions for you in my will. You'll be looked after."

Barbara turned savagely on him. "You've done what?"

"You heard me."

"Why? I never asked for that."

"I know. I did it because I care."

"And you think I can't make my own provisions and worse!"

"Worse?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"Barbara, I have no clue what you are talking about. Only you could be offended by someone doing something nice for you."

"Nice? You think bequeathing funds to look after your poor, old partner is noble, but it's... insulting. And you've assumed I'll die alone."

"I've done nothing of the sort! I just put some money aside so that you never have to worry about ending up like your mother."

"I did my best. I paid extra beyond what the NHS covered. I did what I could."

Tommy saw the tears welling in her eyes and regretted his angry words. He had not meant it the way she had taken it. He had just been annoyed that she was so upset at something he thought was sensible. "I'm sorry Barbara. I know you looked after her, and I didn't mean to denigrate that. And I didn't mean to offend you."

"Maybe I'm overly sensitive, but we should discuss it later."

"When things settle down," he agreed.

They sat in silence for the rest of the journey. Tommy fretted that she would dismiss him, but then he remembered the box in the car. At least he would get inside her flat.


	3. Chapter 3

Barbara cleared a space on the table and pointed to the spot she wanted him to put the box. "Thanks for taking me this morning. I'll probably come to work tomorrow. I'll let you know," she said gruffly.

"Winston is managing everything. We don't have to go back."

"We? You can go back now if you want to."

"I told Hiller I might take a few days off."

"You did what? He'll think... goodness knows what he'll think!"

"I told him I wanted to be available for you."

"To do what? Babysit me? I'm not three. I don't need a minder."

Tommy ran his hand through his hair. His mother had said he would know what to do and say, but he was making a complete hash of everything. He decided not to argue any further. "I thought you might like to go to the pub for lunch. You don't have much food here."

"You checked my cupboards?"

"No, only your fridge, when I put the milk back."

Barbara made a noise that sounded like a cross between and angry bear and a swarm of wasps. "Stop trying to... do whatever you're doing!"

"I'm trying to be your friend," he said calmly.

Barbara's face was red, and her fists clenched tightly. "You said earlier I could decide if I wanted company. Well, I've decided - I don't."

Tommy reached out and gently took hold of her upper arms. "Don't push me away Barbara. Do you remember when you found me after Helen's funeral?"

"Yeah, of course."

"You didn't preach to me or give me platitudes. You just let me sit with my thoughts."

"Maybe I should have preached given what happened afterwards."

Tommy winced then smiled tightly. He still hated himself for the way he had treated her. "Just being there ensured there _was_ an afterwards. You understood. You knew how I felt. You knew what I needed. You sat with me for hours, just to let me know I had someone who cared."

She shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel you were alone."

"Exactly. I should have talked to you about what I was feeling, but I was... scared, ashamed... I don't know, but I made a mistake keeping everything inside me, mourning alone. I just want you to know I understand, and I care too. Don't make the same mistakes I did Barbara. You can talk to me about anything."

Tommy watched her reaction carefully. For a minute he thought she would expel him for his impertinence, but then she nodded. "Thanks, Sir. So much happened last night that I can't think about yet. I needed to get through all that today first. Now I just want time to... calm down."

Reluctantly he nodded. "I understand, but you still have to eat."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright. One drink and some chips, but we'll go to my local. I'd like a walk."

Lynley's heart settled back in his chest. "That's a good idea. Stretch the legs and get a bit of fresh air."

"But don't think I've forgiven you for that other business."

"Barbara..."

"No! I don't want to get angry again."

Tommy put his arm around her shoulder. "We can talk about that in a few weeks. Come on then, let's get that drink."

Barbara walked the long way to The Lion. In Adelaide Road, after they had been walking for nearly fifteen minutes, Tommy realised where she was heading. They went in the back entrance to the park and walked slowly up the grey asphalt path. All around, the autumn leaves were changing colour and falling from the trees. A small group of retirees were practising Tai Chi on a quiet lawn and in the distance a mother was playing with her two young children. Tommy swallowed hard. _The world can wait a couple of minutes. Well, maybe it's waited too long._

At the summit, London sprawled before them. Cranes dotted the skyline as yet more shiny edifices to money and power rose from the once low and dignified city. Tommy looked around. The hill had changed. The single bench was now grouped with others on a large, paved area that flattened the top of the hill. Artworks added to the populist atmosphere. It had become a lookout rather than a spot for quiet contemplation. He sighed heavily. Progress often came at too high a price.

Barabara stared at the city. "You don't mind? Coming here?"

Tommy did not answer immediately. "No," he said eventually, "It reminds me of so many things - good and bad, but mostly good."

"Yeah, me too. I come up here sometimes. Will you sit with me for a while?"

He escorted her to seat away from the main lookout. He sat on the right, and she sat on the opposite end of the bench. It was so hauntingly similar that the rawness of that day choked in his throat - the pain of loss, her friendship, his guilty relief that it was not Barbara who had been shot. He looked at her. Everything was the same. Tommy slid up the bench and put his arm around her shoulder. "I have conversed with the spiritual sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill."

"God?"

Tommy smiled. "It's a line from William Blake. He was talking about Druids I think. They worshipped here for years. I believe that they still come on the solstice."

"Take a drive to Primrose Hill. It's windy there, and the view's so nice."*

"Ah, the inscription on the path. Is it still there?"

"No, it went when they did this. It was from a song. See, you quote the classics, and I quote music. It's how it is, how it's meant to be."

"Another song?"

For the first time today she laughed. "No, not another song."

"There's nothing wrong with us having different perspectives Barbara. We don't have to be the same. Our differences are our strength."

"I know," she said as she nestled into his shoulder. Tommy rested his head on hers. They were joined through the universe and his sun was a woman.

* * *

"We should get that pint, Sir, before it gets dark."

Tommy glanced at his watch. It was nearly three o'clock. "Did we fall asleep?"

"I think so."

He checked his wallet. "Well, at least we weren't robbed."

As they sauntered back to the pub, Tommy thought seriously about taking her hand but decided against it. Instead, he had a better idea. He opened the door and stood back to let Barbara enter The Lion. They ordered and took their beers and chips to a quiet table near the rear of the small pub. "Cheers," he said, clinking her glass. "May we accept the past without regret and look to the future without fear."

"If only we could. Cheers."

"Would you like to get away for a few days?"

"Down to Cornwall? Thanks, Sir but no, I know your mother would mean well but..."

"Not Howenstowe. Somewhere away from London, a place you could go walking or do something you enjoy."

"The Lake District?"

"Yes, if that's where you'd like to go," he said as he ate a chip. He had not realised how hungry he had become. "I might get another bowl of these."

"I've never been, but they say it's nice."

"Good, that's settled. I'll make some calls. We can leave tomorrow."

She hesitated then looked at him suspiciously. "We?"

He frowned. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Why? I think a break will do you good."

"Why both of us?"

Tommy tried to smile but she was pushing him away again, and it hurt. "Because we're friends and I care. I'll give you space, but I want to be there for... in case you need someone."

She stopped eating long enough to frown. "How very gallant of you."

Tommy drained his drink and stared at her. After this afternoon he thought she understood. He was tempted just to tell her he loved her and have the argument now in the middle of the pub. There was no point. She apparently did not feel the same way about him. "Have it your way Barbara. Ring me when you want to come back to work."

He walked out without looking back. He had tried his best, but maybe he had clung to hope from her mother's observation and made a fool of himself. Barbara did not love him, at least not in the way he loved her. She may as well have shot him through the heart. It would have been kinder and less painful.

He had almost reached his car when he heard her calling to him. "Sir! Don't go, Sir! I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," he muttered to himself, "I thought you understood."

He unlocked his car and opened the door. "Tommy! Wait!" Lynley looked up to see her running after him. She stopped at the rear of his vehicle. When he did not answer she continued, "I'm sorry. I know you care. You're my only real friend, and I'm glad you're here. I would like to have a few days away, and I'd like your company, but I'm scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Will you come in? I don't want to do this on the street."

Tommy took a deep breath then relocked his car and followed her up the path. She closed the door and stood, looking at him in a way she never had before. He knew that look. Many women had used it on him, and part of him wanted to surrender to it. She put her hand on his chest. "No Barbara. Not like this. Your mother was right. I do love you. That's why we can't do this."

Before he could change his mind, he turned and left her flat. He could hear her crying behind the door, and he wavered before he walked to his car and drove away.

* * *

* For Tomorrow", a song by the English alternative rock band Blur.


	4. Chapter 4

Tommy drove in circles for nearly an hour as he debated what to do. Barbara had thought she was losing him and had finally reached out to him, and he had thrown it straight back in her face. It might have been clumsy and desperate, but she had at least tried. He should have just held her and explained without making a scene. Now she would retreat and never trust him.

For the third time, he drove slowly past her house. The light was on, and he could only speculate what was happening behind the door. He parked a few doors down but stayed in his car. He wanted to see her, to make things right, but he had no idea where to start. _What's the worst she can do? Throw me out?_

There was no point practising a speech. That never worked with Barbara. Lynley wiped his palms on his trousers, rang the bell and waited. "About time," she yelled as she opened the door. "Oh! It's you."

Tommy edged his foot forward so that she could not slam the door. "Who were you expecting?"

"The pizza man."

Food - he should have known. It seemed Barbara was not pining for him after all. He was expecting anger, not indifference. "We need to talk. May I come in?"

Barbara snorted then stepped back. "Maybe it would do me good to fight."

"No fighting, just talking."

"No promises. Ah good, here he is!"

Tommy cleared room on her table while she paid the delivery driver. She slammed two boxes on the table with a self-satisfied grunt.

"Two pizzas?"

"I ordered the Tandoori Chicken for you."

He looked at the boxes then up at her in genuine awe. "How did you know I'd be back?"

Barbara opened her box to reveal a pizza that looked like nothing but meat and barbeque sauce. "You've driven past every twenty minutes," she said between mouthfuls. "This time, I was going to go out and flag you down if you didn't stop, but you were early."

"I did a shorter circuit this time," he confessed.

"Drink?"

"Beer, please. I don't think anything heavier would be good for me right now."

She returned from the kitchen with two open beers. "Who goes first?"

"With what?"

Barbara rolled her eyes. "The talk we need to have."

"I don't want to fight. I really don't," he implored.

"Me either, Sir. I'm way too tired for that."

Tommy took a deep breath. "I... I wanted to apologise for running out and explain why."

"No need. I misread the situation. I'm sorry I offended you."

He looked up to see her face and neck were flushed. "No! You didn't offend me at all!"

"Then why did you run?"

He was not sure he was ready to say more, but her confusion spurred him on. "I just didn't want to be used, Barbara."

"Used? You thought I was using you?"

He sensed she was struggling to control her temper and her tongue. "You only wanted sex to affirm life. It's a natural reaction, but..."

"You thought it was just about sex so that I could feel alive?" She shook her head slowly back and forth as if he had just admitted to believing the earth was flat.

Tommy did not enjoy her pity. "That or you thought I'm so shallow that sex would stop me leaving," he snapped.

Barbara caught his wrist just as he was about to take another bite. "You don't understand me at all, do you?"

She shook her head again Suddenly he was back at the two-room school at Nanrunnel waiting for Mr Thistlethwaite to banish him to the corner for being a 'pompous git'. "I do understand, Barbara."

"No, you think of me as a little puppy that needs protecting so that you can feel good about yourself as the hero. You want me to adore you and wag my tail when I see you and sit at your feet while you pour out all your troubles. In return, I get fed and given a few pats when it suits you. If it doesn't suit, then I'm put in my basket until you're ready to play again!"

"Barbara! That's hardly fair. I've never once thought of you as my puppy."

"I'm not saying you don't care, but you don't see me as your equal. I'm there to make you feel good - make you happy when you're sad, make you laugh when you want to cry."

"That's not what I want, or how I feel! How could you think that?"

"Look at the evidence. You mean well but you are arrogant beyond words. You treat me like I can't do anything myself. I'm surprised you haven't sent in cleaners to tidy my flat." He swallowed and noticed her eyes narrow. "Oh, you thought about it, didn't you? I can see it on your face."

"Only to help you. To make your life easier."

"You want to organise my holidays; you check my fridge for food and worst of all you thought I'd be a withered old spinster and need some of your cash to make it through until I died. And just in case you weren't around to make all my decisions yourself you left instructions for others. Even beyond the grave you want to control me. Do you know how humiliated I felt hearing that? You assumed so much - too much. You expect my life to run to your rules. Well, Sir, it's MY life. I'll make it what I can and what I need it to be."

Tommy put down his pizza. "I'm sorry Barbara. I never meant it that way at all. I was trying to look after you, protect you."

"That's my point. I don't want to be looked after like that. I'm not made of glass! Normal people take care of each other by boosting their partner up, not tearing them down."

"You boost me up."

"Because I'm normal."

"And you think I'm a manipulative, arrogant monster," he said sadly.

"Not a monster."

Tommy stared at her. She was calm and from her answers even seemed a little playful. Maybe it was time for the truth. "I was trying to show I love you."

"No Sir, you weren't. You think you were, but you were trying to control everything so that it went to your plan. Did your plan ever include telling me how you felt? Or crossing that barrier we've put up and rushed to reinforce every time there's a crack? No. Because you wanted the _ideal,_ not me. You want to be in love with me, but when you had the chance, it didn't match the scene that played out in your head. You assumed I just wanted to feel something, but it never occurred to you that it was time for us to put away the baggage we carry and start looking forward. At the pub, your salute was to look to the future without fear. I've lived my entire life in fear. It was fear that made me snap at you in the pub because I knew that if we went away together, we... we would end up in bed together. I wanted it but..."

"You weren't ready and thought I was controlling you?"

"No, what scared me is that I am finally ready. Last night, my mother told me how she and Dad had felt when I tried to force them to grieve my way for Terry. They retreated somewhere so deep inside themselves they lost everything - me, each other, themselves. I can't keep hiding. This scares me, Sir, as much as it scares you. As you walked away, I had a genuine fear I'd ruined everything. I called you Tommy. I thought that alone would tell you I was trying to overcome that fear. I wanted to show you I wasn't afraid of what you said on the hill."

"On the hill? What did I say?"

"You don't remember?" Barbara threw her half eaten slice of pizza back into the box.

Tommy looked down. "No."

"You mumbled that I was your world and that you loved me. Then you fell asleep. I was trying to let you know I felt the same way but when you fled I thought you must have been dreaming and talking to Helen. I thought I'd heard what I wanted to hear and not what you were saying. Then you came back and slowed down, and I had hope. I knew for sure you had meant me when you came back the second time."

He grinned at her. "So you ordered pizza?"

"Yes, I ordered pizza."

"Even though I'm arrogant and selfish."

"Yeah, despite your flaws, I do love you Tommy - more than you will ever know."

Tommy could not help but grin. "You love me?"

Barbara rolled her eyes. "No, I just said all that to make a complete idiot of myself again. Of course, I bloody love you!"

Tommy took her hand. "Barbara, your mother was right. I am in love with you. I have been for a very long time but just didn't understand. Now I very much want to take that to its logical conclusion."

"So you're not going to run away again?"

Tommy winced than smiled. "No, but we have to be at peace with ourselves and each other first."

Barbara sighed heavily. "Good luck with that. When have either of us ever been at peace?"

"Sitting on that bench this afternoon." He reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm. Her face softened, confirming his belief. Barbara had felt it too.

"Oil on a troubled sea," she murmured as she moved closer to him.

"What?"

"It's one of the things my mother told me last night. She said that you coming into my life was like pouring oil on a troubled sea."

Tommy came towards her until their faces were only inches apart. "Are you sure?"

"Are we going to keep questioning everything all night or are you going to..."

Tommy's first kiss was almost too gentle. The second lingered and the third begged for more. The serenity he had on the bench now engulfed him. All his doubts and concerns and self-hatred vaporised as Barbara's fingers twisted in his hair and dragged him closer. "Oh my... oh Barbara."

* * *

It was nearly four o'clock when they finally settled back on the bed. Tommy pulled the covers over them as Barbara nestled against him. "Why did we wait so long?" he whispered into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Because we're stubborn fools."

"Is it too controlling to say I want to spend my life doing this?"

Barbara laughed. "We might have to pause to eat, and I could do with some sleep. I had no idea how tiring love is."

"I meant..."

Barbara pulled his head down and kissed him lovingly. "I know what you meant. Let's just take it slowly before you start enrolling our children at Eton!"


End file.
